


We Don't Talk About It

by acme146



Series: Fiddle of Gold [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Badass Sam Winchester, But in the bad way, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Gen, Hell Trauma, Hurt Sam Winchester, Missing Scene, Past Torture, Relationship Study, Season/Series 11, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-27 02:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14415270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: A look at Sam and Lucifer during season 11, with some missing scenes, headcanons, and Sam actually getting to face his abuser on equal grounds.





	1. Devil in the Details

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, welcome!   
> Yes, I know season 13 is currently airing. I actually wrote this story mostly last April, but I had to finish the sequel so I could edit this to be consistent, and that took way longer.   
> Note: This is not Samifer. This is not Samifer friendly. Don't hate the ship, but this is not a story for that, at all.

The light faded and Lucifer was gone.

            Sam started shaking, his head ringing, black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

            “Sammy?” Dean was there. _Dean._

“Dean, get me out. Please, De. Please…”

            Dean pulled him up, and Sam groaned as his broken ribs were jostled. The two of them slipped between the bars of the fake Cage. He would never have been able to do that in the real Cage, it was more like a box, the walls so close together…

            “Sammy, you with me?”

            Sam gripped hold of Dean. He could hear a far off moan that was rising into a scream.

            “Sammy, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay. Cas, are you okay? Do you need help?”

            Sam couldn’t hear Cas’ response. The scream was getting louder.

            “Sammy, come on, it’s okay, little brother. He’s gone, buddy. You’re gonna be fine. I’m right here. We’re right here.”

            _Oh, I’m the one screaming._ That made sense.

            Sam tried to stop himself screaming, but it wasn’t working.

            “Cas, can you heal him at all?”

            Grace touched him and Sam screamed louder. “No!”

            “Sammy, Sammy, it’s Cas, buddy. It’s Cas.”

            Right. Cas. Friend. Not Lucifer.

            “Sorry,” Sam rasped, trying to clamp down on his screams. He was trembling in Dean’s arms, barely standing. Cas reached out again, and Sam gritted his teeth, trying not to fight the Grace healing his wounds.

            “What did he do to you?” Dean asked, still supporting Sam.

            Sam cleared his throat. _Stop screaming. You don’t need to scream._ “You only missed three or four punches,” he answered.

            “Are you sure?”

            _Other than the words?_ No, he wasn’t going to think about that. Put it away, put it away... “Yes. De, it was him. It was him the _whole time, in my head…”_

Dean swore loudly.

            “We never even considered that,” Cas said quietly.

            “Would never have gone if I thought…him.” Sam couldn’t speak any more clearly. “Wanted me to say yes. I didn’t Dean, I didn’t.”

            “I know.” Dean hugged him tighter. “I’m so proud of you. So proud. You’re safe now, and we’re going home, okay?”

            Sam nodded, blinking away tears. He looked at Cas. “Thank you for saving me. I’ve never been so happy to see you both in my life.”

            “You’re welcome Sam. Any time.” Cas smiled and put a gentle hand on Sam’s cheek. Sam held still, trying not to flinch.

            “Come on,” Dean said gruffly. He helped Sam stand straight, and when he swayed, put an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go home.”


	2. Into the Mystic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer talks to Sam. Sam talks to Cas.   
> Only one of them is right.

Lucifer was pacing through the Bunker one night—damn the humans for giving him an invitation to stay!—when he saw Sam doing something utterly strange.

            The door to his bedroom was open, and he was standing in front of a mirror, waving his hands. It didn’t look like any spellcasting Lucifer had ever seen. Maybe he was trying to develop some spells?

            Cas would knock, so Lucifer knocked.

            Sam spun around. “Hi Cas.”

            “What are you doing, Sam?”

            Sam ran a hand through his hair. _Embarrassed,_ Lucifer mused. _Why?_

            “I’m practicing sign language,” Sam admitted. “It’s easier in front of a mirror.”

            “Why?” Could it be because of his and his brother’s impending hearing loss? Castiel had been healing the damage subtly for years, but there was only so much he could do for humans who insisted on firing off guns without ear protection.

Sam blushed. “Well…it’s for Eileen. I want to get a bit better. It’s easier for her than lip reading.”

            “Right. Eileen. The hunter who is deaf.”

            “Yeah. She’s a Legacy of the Men of Letters too, and I thought if we ran into each other again, it would be nice if we could talk more, even though she can read lips just fine…”

            “You’re babbling, Sam. Do you…do you like this girl?”

            “She’s pretty great,” Sam admitted. “She’s amazing, honestly. I’ve never met someone like her. She’s so strong.”

            “Perhaps you should…call her?” Lucifer suggested. “I suppose that wouldn’t work. Text her?”

            The smile faded from Sam’s face. “I’ll text back if she contacts me, but I won’t initiate contact.”

            “Why not?” Interesting. Had Sam actually learned his lesson?

            “Because bad things happen to women I…I care about. I don’t want anything to happen to her because of something I might feel.” Sam took a deep breath. “I’ll be her friend if she wants it, but I won’t let myself love her.”

            “Maybe that won’t always be true,” Lucifer offered, trying to hide his delight. “Maybe this could be the one.”

            Sam seemed to struggle with that for a moment. “Thanks Cas, but…no.” He turned over the mirror. “I’m going to try and get some sleep.”

            “I think that’s a good idea. You look exhausted.” Lucifer couldn’t resist. He stepped forward and put his arms around Sam. “You’ll find happiness someday, Sam.” _And I’ll take it from you._

“Hope so,” Sam muttered. He pulled away. “Thanks, Cas. Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight, Sam.”

            “Cas?”  
            “Yes?”

            “Is the heat down in the Bunker?”

            “I don’t think so. I was outside for a walk.”

            “Oh, that’s it. You just felt a bit cold.”

            “My apologies. I forget you feel temperature differently.” Stupid, observant boy.

            “It’s okay. Goodnight, Cas.”

            “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there's Saileen hints here. There might be more to come :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	3. The Vessel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bold italics are from-the-show dialogue.

**“ _You can’t time travel.”_ **

            “No, I can’t. Sam—” Cas was struggling to speak, Sam saw the effort in every inch of his body. “I have to—”

            Sam swallowed hard. “Okay, Cas. Hang on, okay? We’ll help you. Don’t worry about us.”

            “I’m sorry,” Cas whispered. Then his face shifted and Lucifer took back control. Sam could see the Graces changing places. How could he have been blind?

            Lucifer grabbed hold of him before he could move and threw him over the table. Sam landed on his shoulder with a thud and looked up at his worst nightmare.

            No, it was worse than that, because he’d never dreamed that Lucifer would ever wear the face of family.

            Lucifer cocked his head. “Say nothing,” he warned Sam, and then he vanished.

            Sam was trembling from head to foot. His soul was aching, his shoulder felt like it was on fire, and his heart was screaming. There was agony in every inch of him, and there would be more coming.

            He could obey. He could say nothing, and maybe Lucifer would let him and Dean live.

            But he knew that wasn’t true, and he wouldn’t let Cas be forced to kill them.

            Sam had a knife, and he slid across the floor just enough to get near to the wall. _No, Lucifer_ , he thought. _No._

A flash, and Lucifer and Dean were back.

            _“ **Dean, that’s not Cas!”**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters are short, but they will get longer after this.   
> The next chapter is actually going to be much more speculative, because I can't prove it, but...  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	4. Red Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer hears a startling prayer.

            Sam’s prayer comes out of nowhere, and Lucifer almost ignores it.

            But it’s the first one he’s heard since leaving the Winchesters, so he listens.

            _Don’t let me die!_

Now that’s surprising. Sam was more suicidal than any human Lucifer had ever encountered, and that included Nick. Why was he fighting for his life?

            It’s worth a look. Lucifer is bored anyways. Demons aren’t very interesting.

            He flies to Sam’s side and watches as Dean crouches above his brother, crying. There’s two other people; well, one woman and one new werewolf. Lucifer can see the marks on Sam’s neck, matches them to the werewolf. Interesting.

            Sam’s not dead, but it’s clear that his brother doesn’t realize that. He promises his brother that he’ll come back, and leads the other two out of the cabin.

            Lucifer paces around Sam’s comatose body. Werewolves, then, and a gunshot wound. It’s bad, and that combined with the strangulation is enough to kill Sam if he doesn’t get medical attention soon.

            _Brother, please._

Lucifer bats Castiel away. _I thought I told you to shut up._

_Help him. Please._

_You have nothing to offer me._

_Please._

Lucifer crouches down. _Guess I missed a few million birthdays, didn’t I? Well, Cassie, Happy birthday._

All Sam really needs is a quick jolt to wake up. Lucifer gives it to him, staying invisible as Sam wakes with a groan.

            _There, Cassie. Your precious human’s going to live. Happy now?_

            _Thank you._

_Don’t thank me yet. We’d better follow him and watch. To make sure he gets back alive, of course._

That’s not why he wants to watch Sam Winchester struggle through woods full of werewolves, of course. He wants to watch because it’s funny, and it will hurt Cas. And he’ll keep his gift going; Sam will get back alive.

            Maybe not before Dean kills himself to ‘bring him back’. But come on, Cas only gets one gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, this was late, my bad. I moved this weekend and stuff's been crazy. The next chapter will be up tomorrow at the proper time.   
> And like I said, I cannot prove this happened, but...I mean...that's what I immediately thought, and that's what I'm going to stick with.   
> :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	5. All In The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is horrified that Lucifer is in his home, even more horrified that he was the one who brought him there. Chuck and Dean provide some solace.

            Sam stares, terrified, at Lucifer and God. Lucifer, still in Cas’ body, glaring at Chuck, once a prophet, a guy Sam remembered as harmless, confused. He’d pitied him.

            In a way, he pities him now. He remembers Lucifer glaring at him that way, glaring in his true form across the Cage…

            Sam winces, pressing his thumb to his palm. _Not there_ , he orders his mind. _Don’t go there._

But it’s hard, it’s impossibly hard to hang on to what dimension he’s in. They’re in the Bunker, but Lucifer’s there, not bothering to use Cas to mask his Grace anymore, and Sam can’t stop looking at him, because the minute he takes his eyes off him the pain will come, and it will start again.

            Dean’s got his hand on his arm now, and Sam takes a deep breath. Chuck’s there. And this is his home. His place. And he’s tired, and he wants to go lie down. But he needs a shower first. A long one.

            Dean seems to read his mind, because he draws Sam away from the kitchen, slow enough to avoid drawing attention, quick enough to calm Sam’s rising panic.

            Then Cas—no, it’s Lucifer _, it’s Lucifer_ —springs in front of them. Dean’s got a knife out, but Lucifer’s already taken hold of Sam, gripping his forearms. It doesn’t hurt, but Sam flinches, bows his head.

            “I just wanted to thank you, Sam. For saving me.” There’s no taunt in Lucifer’s voice, no lilt. Sam risks a glance up to his face and sees Cas’ gentle blue eyes, sees gratitude in them.

            And he wonders, for a moment, whether Cas has regained control.

            But no, the grip on his arms is too familiar. Even through the vessel, he can feel Lucifer’s power, strong and twisting.

            Sam takes a deep breath. “Anything for you, Cas.” Because that’s true. That’s always been true, and never more so than now, when he has to forgive his friend for letting his tormentor loose again. “Let go of me, Lucifer.”

            To his shock and relief, Lucifer does let go, and Sam leaves. He doesn’t run—he can’t run, Lucifer will chase him—but he moves as fast as he dares, darts into the bathroom and vomits into the toilet. There isn’t much in his stomach, but he heaves until the last is gone. He yanks his shirt off ( _he touched Lucifer, he touched him, he took him down from the rack and **touched** him, supported him out, got him into the car their car Dean’s car) _ and rushes to the sink, rinses his mouth with one shaky, desperate handful of water ( _their home and now Lucifer’s here, in their stable home, in Cas, and now when he has nightmares there will be three faces leering at him—Nick’s, his own and Cas’)_ and runs boiling water over his arms, grabbing for soap, ignoring the burn ( _what can he do, they’re not safe, this is **their home** )—_

“Sam.”

            Sam whirls, the water still running. Chuck stands in the doorway, his hands raised. “You’re safe, Sam.” He waves his hand, wincing as Sam flinches, and the water turns off. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

            Sam leans back against the sink, gripping it so hard he’s afraid it’s going to crack. “I—I know.” He remembers his manners. “Thanks. For getting us out of there.”

            Chuck smiles, but it’s sad, and Sam wants to run again, run from the being who called Lucifer his favourite, because of course he’ll take Lucifer’s side, and after all Sam did let him out again, it was his fault—

            “I never should have said that,” Chuck interrupts, and Sam can’t stop the whimper that leaves him, because of course Chuck can read his thoughts, and know everything, every terrible thing Sam’s ever done, every little detail about his life that would make him deserve this pain.

            Because deep down in his soul, that’s what Sam has always believed. _You deserve this. You deserve to suffer._ He sinks to his knees.

            There’s a pause, a long, terrible pause, when all Sam can hear is his own panting.

            Then Chuck appears right in front of him…kneeling.

            Sam gasps in a huge breath, because _God_ is there, _kneeling_ , and he wants to get to his feet, tell Chuck to stand, because why would anyone ever kneel to him? There’s something perverted in the very action.

            “Sam, _stop._ ”

            Sam flinches away.

            “I mean…” Chuck sighs. He shifts so he’s sitting with his legs crossed, which is better, but he’s still lower than Sam. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”

            “Sorry?”

            Chuck leans forward and takes hold of Sam’s chin, tilting until their gazes meet. “You’ve been hurt,” he whispers. “You’ve been hurt so terribly, and I’m so sorry.”

            _It wasn’t you,_ Sam wants to say. _I’m fine. It’s in the past._

But it isn’t anymore, and the Devil’s free to make the past present again anyway he chooses.

            “He can’t hurt you.”

            “What?”

            “He can’t hurt you. Or Dean, or Castiel. I’ve blocked that.”

            Sam doesn’t understand.

            “He can’t use his powers to hurt you,’ Chuck says, brow furrowing. “You’re safe. No matter what.”

            Sam turns that over in his mind. _Safe_ and _Lucifer_ don’t match. They never have.

            “I’m not lying, Sam.”

            **“I will never lie to you. I will never trick you.”**

Sam flinches.

            Chuck lets go of his chin, and Sam ducks his head, staring at the floor. “He’s here.”

            Chuck doesn’t reply.

            “He…hurt me. He ruined me. And I had to go back.” Sam looks up. “Why didn’t you answer? Why didn’t you warn me?"

            “Because I didn’t want to fight.” Chuck looks ashamed. “I thought…I hoped…well, it doesn’t matter what I hoped. In any case, I guess I thought you might figure it out.”

            “I didn’t know he could do that,” Sam still can’t say the name. “If I had, I don’t know if I could have coped.” He’s too tired to lie anymore, too tired to remember to hide weakness.

            Chuck has tears in his eyes. “If I could undo this damage, I would Sam. But I…I can’t.”

            Sam closes his eyes. Of course not.

            “At least not right now,” Chuck says hurriedly. “With Amara here, I’m worried that we don’t have the time. Healing a soul…well. It’s hard. And I need to take time to do it, to make sure it’s done right. But when this is over, I will take that time.”

            Sam opens his eyes in surprise. “Really?”

            “I’ll do what I can,” Chuck promises. “I’m not…your brother’s right. I can’t just sacrifice myself. It won’t work anyways. We’ll fight, and if we win, I’ll help you.”

            “And if we lose, we’re gone anyways,” Sam replies. Before he would have embraced that possibility, the emptiness promised by the Darkness. Now, despite everything, he wants to survive. He’s not sure why.

            “Very true.” Chuck rises to his feet and holds out his hands. Sam takes them without thinking, shocked when Chuck pulls him up with no effort.

            “You need to get some rest, Sam. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you. Or anyone else.”

            “I’ll try,” Sam promises. He bows his head awkwardly.

            “Don’t do that.” Chuck’s voice is soft as he squeezes Sam’s hands. “You of all people don’t need to do that.”

            “Why?”

            “Because you still have faith, after life has given you every reason to give up. You are still good, despite all of the times you could have gone bad. And there have been more than you might think.” Chuck looks Sam right in the eye. “Hear me, Sam Winchester. You deserve to be safe. To be happy. To be loved. Do you understand?”

            Sam looks at Chuck helplessly. “I…I don’t…I can try.”

            “Try, then. Because you need to take some of the belief you’ve given to others and give it to yourself.”

            Sam blinks hard.

            Chuck waves his hand again and Sam’s in front of Dean’s door. He doesn’t bother knocking. Dean’s lying on his bed. There’s no headphones, no TV, nothing. He’s staring at the ceiling. Sam wonders if Dean knows that he’s crying.

            Dean stirs and looks at him. “Sammy?”

            “De.” Sam realizes he’s warm, looks down. He’s wearing his favourite pair of pajamas from college, warm and soft.  

            “C’mere.”

            Sam lies down next to Dean and puts his head on his chest. They don’t often take moments like this, when Dean shuts up about chick flick moments and Sam stops pretending that he’s fine, that he doesn’t miss the days when his big brother could fix anything.

            Sam throws his arm over Dean’s stomach. Dean takes Sam’s hand.

            “He’s got Cas,” Dean whispers.

            “I know,” Sam whispers back. “Chuck promised we’re safe, though. All three of us.”

            Dean grips Sam’s hand. “He told me not to go after you, that he would fix it.”

            _You deserve to be safe. To be happy. To be loved._

“He tried,” Sam answers. “I don’t think it worked all the way, but he tried.”

            “I don’t want that monster here,” Dean says firmly. “If it weren’t for Cas—”

            “I know, De.” And he does, really. Knows what Dean would do to Lucifer. That’s what scares him most—his brother picking a fight with the Devil, a bully he can never knock out.

            “Hey. I’m here, Sammy. I’m right here.” Dean bends, presses a kiss to Sam’s head. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll finish this.”

            Sam nods, buries his face against Dean’s chest. Something pokes him in the cheek, and he can’t help but smile.

            Dean pulls the amulet out, lets it hang to the right so Sam can see. “Thanks for giving it back, Sammy.” _I love you._

“It’s been yours the whole time.” _I love you too._

They don’t speak for a while. Sam listens to his brother’s heartbeat, tries to match his breathing to it.

            “You gonna stay?” Dean asks.

            “If you don’t mind.” Sam doesn’t want to go back to his room. Doesn’t want to have a nightmare alone. Doesn’t want _Dean_ to have a nightmare alone.

            “I don’t mind.” Dean’s voice is hardly audible; he’s crying again. Sam grips his hand more tightly and closes his eyes. “Night, De.” And he says it out loud. “I love you.”

            “Love you, Sammy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that they actually filmed a scene where Sam and Chuck have a similar conversation....and they cut it....  
> Grr.   
> So I wrote it.  
> The final chapter of this story will be out on Thursday, so keep your eyes peeled to AO3! The last chapter is the one I actually started first, and it's my favorite after this one.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	6. We Happy Few

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lucifer, you agreed to talk too"- Sam Winchester, We Happy Few 
> 
> This is that conversation.

            Sam leaves Dean with Chuck and goes back down the hall. His skin crawls as he stands in front of his door again. _His_ door. _His_ room. And Lucifer’s playing loud music inside.

            He’s going to have to wash everything.

            Sam grits his teeth and bangs on the door. The music turns down.

            The door wrenches open and Lucifer glares at him, twisting Cas’ face into a familiar scowl. 

            Before he can speak, Sam holds up a hand. “I’m not here as a messenger. I want my book.”

            “Get it later.”

            “It’s my room, asshat!”

            Lucifer blinks in surprise, then steps aside. Sam ducks under his arm, careful not to brush against him. His bed hasn’t been touched, to his surprise; in fact, nothing’s been moved. His radio is off. Had Lucifer conjured the music?

            Sam doesn’t turn his back on Lucifer as he moves toward his night table. He knows that Lucifer can’t hurt him; this is the first time he’s ever faced him knowing he couldn’t be harmed. Their dynamic has shifted, and it’s more unsettling than Sam likes.

            Lucifer looks uncomfortable too.

            Sam grabs the book.

            “Aren’t you monkeys still gung ho to save the world?”

            Sam considers for a minute, and decides to press his luck. “I mean we’re fucked anyways; Chuck isn’t strong enough to fight her without you. And you’ve already decided to be unhelpful, so I might as well finish my book before we all die.”

            Lucifer’s nostrils flare and Sam flinches reflexively, but nothing happens. He looks down at the book. _To Kill A Mockingbird._ It’s an old favourite; he’s read it hundreds of times. Lucifer knows that.

            Lucifer knows everything.

            “You know,” Sam says before he can think twice, “I never got to say goodbye to my dad.”

            John Winchester’s spectre looms for a minute between them. When Lucifer went through his memories in the Cage, picking out the most painful, he saw what John did. What he said. It prompted one of the rare moments of mercy.

            (Sam remembers them all, there aren’t many to remember. A stopping of the pain, a quieting of the Cage, even sleep a few times. An empathetic torturer, acknowledging a shared suffering).

            “I never got to talk to him,” Sam continues, his throat tight. “Never got to ask him why he did what he did, whether he had any regrets…and I still don’t know if he regrets not having killed me. If he would still want to.”

            “And your point?”

            “You’re a fucking idiot.”

            Lucifer moves then. They’re suddenly a foot apart, and even though Cas’ vessel is shorter—Hell, Nick was shorter—he still looms. But Sam can’t be hurt, so he keeps going.

            “You have a chance right now to talk to your dad, and you won’t do it?”

            “He can’t even give me an apology.”

            “Then take what he’s giving.” Sam takes a deep breath, tries not to lean away. “Take the chance of him being in the same room as you. Yell at him, fight, whatever the hell you want…but I never thought you’d pass up a chance to have something I can’t.”

            Lucifer steps away and turns his back on Sam.

            Sam gives up. It was a long shot anyways. He holds his book to his chest, walks carefully to the door, Lucifer still in his peripheral vision.

            “Sam?”

            Sam doesn’t respond, but he stops and looks back. The Devil’s face has an achingly familiar expression: Cas, when he’s baffled by a human custom.

            “What is it?” Sam asks. He wants to leave, wants to get out, and this is _his room_.

            “I thought you should know something.” Lucifer’s hands are at his sides, clenched into fists. “When Amara…had me, she…well, when it was only the six of us we didn’t really know about torture, and she’s been locked away for millennia. So she needed some inspiration.”

            Sam’s throat goes dry.

            “See she wanted…wanted to hurt me enough that Dad would come to save me, and she realized after a while it wouldn’t be enough to just keep smiting me. So she looked through my memories. Memories of you.”

            Sam can’t think, can’t speak.

            “She thought it was a kind of justice. Taking the ways I tortured you and turning them back on me.” Lucifer’s gaze is intense, but there’s no malice in it, just honest curiosity. “I was wondering two things. The first is…was it really that bad?”

            “Yes.” Sam hates saying that word to Lucifer, but it comes out without effort this time. He knows it’s true. Saw the look in Lucifer’s eyes when they came to save him.

            Lucifer just nods, as if he was expecting the answer. His next question surprises Sam.

            “Are you happy about that?”

            “No,” Sam says immediately, “because Cas got hurt too.”

            Lucifer laughs. “No, no. Amara might be a bit of a battering ram, but she can use finesse when she wants. Your precious angel’s just fine; I shielded him from the shrapnel as best I could, and she was really only interested in me.”  

            “You—you protected him?” That makes no sense.

            Lucifer’s eyes flick away, just for a second, and Sam understands. “You felt guilty,” he whispers, unable to believe it. “You hurt him, you put him in danger from one of the oldest forces in the universe, and you felt _bad_.”

            Lucifer glares at him, and the familiar look almost makes Sam feel better. It also makes him realize something.

            “And you feel bad about me. Some part of you does, anyways, because you just felt what the Cage was like for me. On your scale, not a human one. And I saved you from it.”

            Lucifer doesn’t answer. Rage is pouring off him, but there’s something else there.  Something so much more _human_ that Sam knows he’s right.

            “And if I was happy you would feel better, because then you could still pretend you owe me nothing.” Sam clamps down on his anger, because damn it, this isn’t the time. “Well, I’m not. I guess I appreciate that you got to understand what you did to me, but…no, Lucifer, I’m not happy. I feel sorry for you, because I know how much that sucked.”

            Sam also knows how being pitied makes you writhe.

            Lucifer knows it too, but to Sam’s surprise the anger in the archangel’s face has faded. In its place is a grudging…respect? Is that it? It can’t be.

            “You can tell Dad I’ll talk to him.”

            “Really?”

            Lucifer waves his hand. “You’re very persuasive, Sam Winchester. Besides, I want to knock that bitch out of orbit.”

            Sam nods. “I’ll go tell him.” He leaves, almost expecting Lucifer to say something else, but there’s no further sound from his room.

            He makes about halfway down the hall before he collapses against the wall, shaking uncontrollably. He…talked to Lucifer. To _Lucifer_.

            And Lucifer…

            Did he apologize?

            No, Sam decides. But he acknowledged.

            That’s a start.

            Sam takes a deep breath, presses down on the mark on his hand, and goes to find Dean and Chuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this installment, but don't fret, there is more to come. After all...where do they go from here? And could season 12 have changed at all because of these headcanons?   
> (Yes, yes it does, and that's why it will be an AU).   
> It will be a little while before that comes out, because the next round of posting will be in my Harry Potter verse, Fading Scars! There's lots of interesting world- and character-building, including: Sirius giving Harry the talk, Angelina Johnson's story, Ernie MacMillan in the seventh year, James and Lily Potter Srs. and their brief love story...and even a second chapter to Recreation!   
> So if you're at all interested in that, check out my page starting next Tuesday.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
